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21: People destroy what they love

Auteur: Miss M Valentine
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-10-16 03:54:41

After three pieces, I was finally full. The TV was showing an old horror movie in black and white, and Marek seemed oddly content watching it. “Come closer,” he murmured after a while, his tone lighter. “I won’t bite… well, not yet.”

He tugged at the duvet draped over him, and I hesitated before shifting slowly, following the pull until my shoulder brushed his. The warmth of him bled through the fabric.

“You like movies?” he asked suddenly, catching me off guard.

“Who doesn’t?” I replied, glancing at him.

He chuckled, turning his face toward me. “I don’t care who doesn’t,” he said, voice soft but teasing. “I asked if you do.” I frowned slightly, unsure if it was a trick question. “Sure,” I said with a shrug.

He grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re trying very hard to find the right answer, aren’t you? The one that keeps you here.”

Was it that obvious? I pressed my lips together, shifting in my seat. “…Is there one?”

His ice-blue eyes locked on mine, pinning me in place. “No.”
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  • Till Death Do Us Part   23: Send me the damn address

    The rain had turned to mist as the hours stretched and night slowly gave way to morning.Santiago sat behind the wheel of the black SUV, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other against his jaw. Every lead led to another dead end. Valerie Rousseau – no social media, no tax filings under the city database, no family registered locally. It was like she didn’t exist.“You sure Javier said Rousseau?” Julián asked hesitantly.“Yes, Julián – positive.” Santiago was starting to sound agitated.“I’ll start looking for all the Valeries in the city. Maybe she’s using a false name.”“A false name…” Santiago looked out the window, the sky turning pink as dawn approached.“I’ll keep you posted, jefe. But it might take some time. Maybe you should go home –? ““What about her parents’ name? Maybe one of them was Rousseau?”Julián went silent for a moment. “I’ll look up all birth certificates from twenty to twenty-five years ago.”“Good. Call me when you have something.”He dropped the phone

  • Till Death Do Us Part   22: Now I have to hunt you

    SANTIAGO’S POV:It was quiet. Too quiet. That was the first thing he noticed before opening the tall double doors. No soft rustle of silk, no faint hum of the fire, no sign of life. Just silence. Heavy and wrong. He stepped inside. The fire was still burning – barely – but the room felt cold. Empty. “Valería?” His voice was calm. Silence answered him. His gaze moved to the bed – the sheets untouched. His jacket thrown carelessly on it, discarded. “Julián,” he called, voice low. Within seconds, his second-in-command appeared in the doorway, expression unreadable. “El León,” he answered the call. “She’s gone,” Santiago said quietly. Julián froze. “Gone?” Santiago’s gaze scanned the room, landing on the curtains softly blowing in the wind. “The window.” His tone sharpened, heavy with disbelief and fury. He crossed the room, boots silent against the tiles, and stopped by the tall window. The latch was open, the curtains trembling in the draft. He leaned forward, catching sigh

  • Till Death Do Us Part   21: People destroy what they love

    After three pieces, I was finally full. The TV was showing an old horror movie in black and white, and Marek seemed oddly content watching it. “Come closer,” he murmured after a while, his tone lighter. “I won’t bite… well, not yet.”He tugged at the duvet draped over him, and I hesitated before shifting slowly, following the pull until my shoulder brushed his. The warmth of him bled through the fabric.“You like movies?” he asked suddenly, catching me off guard.“Who doesn’t?” I replied, glancing at him.He chuckled, turning his face toward me. “I don’t care who doesn’t,” he said, voice soft but teasing. “I asked if you do.” I frowned slightly, unsure if it was a trick question. “Sure,” I said with a shrug.He grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re trying very hard to find the right answer, aren’t you? The one that keeps you here.”Was it that obvious? I pressed my lips together, shifting in my seat. “…Is there one?”His ice-blue eyes locked on mine, pinning me in place. “No.”

  • Till Death Do Us Part   20: Heroes don't make deals with devils

    His phone vibrated angrily against the glass table.Marek froze mid-bite, his jaw tightening.The air in the room suddenly felt heavier.The name glowed on the cracked screen, ominous and merciless, making me shiver.Wiktor.For a moment, neither of us breathed. The TV hummed quietly in the background, the only sound in the room. The flickering light from the screen carved dark shadows across Marek’s face, deepening the scar that ran down his cheek - making him look half-beast, half-man. More than usual.My heart thundered painfully in my chest. The phone kept buzzing. Persistent. Demanding.He didn’t move to answer. He just stared at the name like it was venom.Then his gaze flickered to me – calculating, dangerous.His bandaged hand hovered above the phone for a long second before he finally picked it up.When he spoke, his voice was low, harder. Different.“Yes.”I couldn’t make out the words on the other end, but I could hear the tone – cold, sharp, commanding.Even through the di

  • Till Death Do Us Part   19: You're playing with fire

    “So,” he murmured, voice heavy with amusement. “The little lamb thinks she can tame the wolf?” His ice-blue gaze pinned me in place, trapping me in his lap. I shivered. “Maybe.” That made him chuckle – low, rough – but it wasn’t his usual dark laughter. This one was different. More genuine. Almost… human. “Kurva… you’re brave. Or maybe stupid.” He tilted his head, measuring me. “You’re playing with fire.” “Maybe I don’t mind getting burned.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Half-truth. Half-seduction. His grin widened. “Or maybe… I’m not Wiktor. I don’t break toys just to hear them snap.” I stared at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Before I could respond, his hands slid up my sides, slow and deliberate, sending shivers through me. They continued over my ribs, until his fingers rested beneath my breasts – teasing, testing. As if he was waiting to see if I would shove him away. I didn’t. Instead, my nails dug slightly into his shoulders, a signal I didn’t eve

  • Till Death Do Us Part   18: Clever little lamb

    The words made me shiver; my breath caught in my throat. Before I could retreat, his hand slid dangerously low across my back, pulling me forward. I stumbled, gasping at the sudden touch, catching myself against his chest. The corner of his mouth curved, satisfaction radiating from him. “Marek… please…” My voice cracked. “Please?” He tilted his head, pretending to consider. His bandaged hand lifted, brushing my jaw with surprising gentleness – before his grip hardened, forcing my chin upward, exposing my throat. His lips hovered dangerously close, his breath a mix of smoke and fire. “Please – what? Please stop? Or please don’t?” I froze. My body trembled with the truth I couldn’t voice. I couldn’t even say it to myself. Shame flooded me. He chuckled low, dark. “That’s what I thought.” With a sudden movement, Marek sat down, leaning against the couch, one arm sprawled lazily along the backrest, the other tapping his bandaged fingers against his knee. His eyes glittered, cold and pla

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